Evocation of the Father
by Hedacious
Summary: For years crime in the streets of Gotham vanished out into nothingness. It was almost as if from top tier criminals like the Joker to simple street thugs, the entire criminal world had decided to disappear. The change leads Bruce to hang up the suit and forget his life as the Batman to focus on the world of Bruce Wayne. That is until an eventful day that changed everything.
1. The Father

"So far, you've been scheduled to attend this party for a minimum of two hours. It isn't anything difficult, you'll be asked questions by the press; give a speech on the ethics and production of Wayne Enterprises. Honestly sir, I can't see a possible way this could end badly for you. Before and after your speech, you'll be required to mingle with the guests of course. Who knows, maybe a nice woman can make you honest." Alfred said as he kept his sight on the road, focusing at all times while skilfully multitasking by creating small talk for Bruce who sat in the back of the pure black Roll-Royce. Receiving no response, Alfred looked to the rear-view mirror only to see his master sitting with his eyes set outside the window, clearly deep in thought. "Now I know my conversations can't be that good that you're taking some extra time to ponder about it. Since the age of seven you've been into the art of deception like Mozart to the harpsichord but you've never been too hot at ignoring or lying to me."

"What's on your mind?"

Without taking his sight of the distant cityscapes, Bruce merely rose a brow.

"For months now, the city's been quiet. It's as if every criminal in Gotham city has decided to take a break and literally vanish from the face of the earth." Alfred snorted a laugh. "Some would see that as a divine miracle. Every corner of the city is peaceful. Instead of worrying about gangs stealing purses, women only have the threat of prepubescent children playing in the streets _. I don't see the problem."_

"In all my years of living and quite rightly in all of _your_ years, there has never been an instance like this. We live in Gotham city Alfred, Not the world of Haven where everything is peaceful and quiet like a place from a story book, something is definitely going on." Turning the wheel to the right then bringing the car into the drive way of the massive building where the event would take place, Alfred shook his head.

"Something tells me that this may have something to you not being the bat in quite some time. Don't kid yourself, you miss it."

Bruce would be silent, giving Alfred the indication to park. Once the car was put into a perfect placement in front of the red carpet, the two men sat silently in the car for a few moments. "Remember Bruce, a minimum of two hours, mingling and a speech. That's all you have to do. "

"Can you handle that?"

"Let's get this over with."

Nodding, Alfred exited the car and moved to open the back door exposing Bruce to the attack of camera's flashing and reporters being forced back by security.

"Smile and nod Alfred...smile and nod."

Eliza looked at herself in the mirror one last time on her way out the door, just to make sure the hour and a half of work she'd put into making herself look goddamned amazing hadn't gone to waste in the ten minutes since she'd last checked. It had been a while since she'd gone to one of these black tie affairs, and since she would be rubbing elbows with some of Gotham's finest tonight, she was determined not to seem out of place. It wasn't every day that she got the opportunity to interview arguably one of the biggest names in the city, Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises, and since his philanthropy and commitment to making Gotham a better place had once again made headlines, she was determined to get an interview, even if it meant crashing a high brow party, a friend of hers working the door had already promised to let her in regardless of whether or not she was on the guest list. Her dark brown hair was left down and long, but curled and pinned back away from her face. She wore contacts tonight instead of the glasses she usually wore, they were clear so as to show off her pretty amber- brown coloured eyes. Her makeup was minimalistic except for her dark red lips, tidy and elegant, but not overstated or over applied. She was wearing a slinky red dress with a black cardigan over top, and was wearing heels regrettably, though she'd put a set of flats in her purse in case she needed to change them out later in the evening. Satisfied that she looked as stunning as she got, she would leave the house with her purse on her shoulder before breezing out to her waiting vehicle, a small blue car which would take her into Gotham proper and towards a hopefully fruitful night. Sure, doing business and celebrity coverage like this was a bit fluffy for her tastes, but her readers wanted to know, and she had to admit, it would be interesting to meet the man behind the money.

Getting from the suburbs, where Eliza lived, and into Gotham proper wasn't that difficult. The streets had been unusually quiet as of late, so much so that she didn't even worry about the crime these days when heading into town. It was almost a shame really because it was making her job awfully boring, but in the spirit of humanity she supposed she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. No news was good news as they said, and Gotham had been through more then its fair share of hardships. Perhaps it was time the city was afforded a little peace and quiet, even if it meant journalists like her had to resort to doing puff pieces on local billionaires. Finding parking near the hotel that was housing this upscale party was slightly more difficult then she'd considered. While many had arrived in driven cars, many still had driven and parked leaving that portion of the street quite congested, made no better by the curious onlookers who pulled over to watch the guests arrive, wondering if they would see anyone truly famous. In the end she'd had to find a parking spot three blocks down the road. She once again cursed the fact that she was currently wearing the most uncomfortable shoes in the world as she parked her car and slipped out locking it up and hoping or the best as she headed off towards the hotel. Peaceful or not, this was still Gotham, without a street light to park under, she wondered if her car would still be there or not when she returned. There was no time to worry about that now though, as she neared the hotel she could see press camera lights flashing as a Rolls- Royce pulled up out front, a certain Mister Wayne himself stepping out to greet the lights with a professionally tuned smile in place on his handsome face. She cursed herself for running behind and awkwardly ran the rest of the distance in hopes of catching a picture before he got inside. She wasn't here for his picture of course, she hoped to get a chance to speak with him a little one on one, and of course listen to his speech as well, but a good shot of him making his way up the red carpet would certainly only add to the interest of the editorial for her subscribers. In the end she was able to grab one, and only one picture as he passed, before storing her camera back in her bag and taking a moment to right herself, making sure her slinky dress hadn't ridden up as she'd run, and that mot a single hair was out of place, before she approached the door herself. She purposefully went through her friend's line, who waved her right through with a conspiratorial smile, though Eliza hadn't qualified for a spot on the guest list. Just like that she was permitted to pass into the lobby which was decorated to the nines. Almost immediately she was handed a flute glass with expensive champagne in it which she took graciously as she smiled in awe at her surroundings. She'd been in this hotel many a time, but at night the city shone through the high arching windows magnificently, a glimmer of the harbour even peaking at them from the distance. The interior had been decked out with twinkling silver lights, and pictures in commemoration of all that The Wayne Family had done for the city over the years. Mostly of the man of the night himself, Bruce Wayne, but also of his deceased Parents who had started the legacy before him, though he'd carried the torch onward with nothing short of elegance.

Business owners and celebrities of all backgrounds threw themselves at the feet of the billionaire in attempts to break the social barrier that seemed so evidently alive within his conversations. Regardless, the night had gone smoothly so far. Everything was going as planned and even Bruce couldn't help but relax and loosen up a little when people started getting closer to him. While he didn't let just any woman dance beside him, he would continuously eye the exit in the hopes that some sort of saviour might burst through the doors and attempt a rescue. In times like this, a few of the Joker's roughed up henchmen wouldn't hurt. The party would quickly die down before the main speaker stood on the small stage fumbling with his finely made suit before bringing the microphone near his lips.

"Welcome you beautiful beautiful people!, In case you haven't already realised, You're in Gotham city with your host; Edward Brock! Now I don't want to stand up here all day and talk because just like you, I came for another reason; To celebrate the success of Wayne Enterprises in its fullest form now that it has become a global success, giving not only the Waynes a successful recognition but the rest of Gotham city too.

Because of this company, we have been able to show the world and our neighbours that Gotham isn't as bad as the media makes it out to be. We can be successful too." He paused to take a drink from the glass placed in front of him before looking back to the flash cards within his reach.

"Now without any further ado, I'd like to invite up to the stage...the man himself. Gotham's finest, Billionaire Bruce Anthony Wayne!"

The guests clapped and clapped until their hands began to feel sore.

Bruce had made his way up to the stage and gently took the microphone off the hands of the speaker then turned to face the large gathering of people, some of which had travelled literally thousands of miles just to hear him speak.

"My dear friends. I'd firstly like to take out the time to thank you all for coming. Some of you have travelled from distances as far as the east just to be here and help me celebrate this day of success. When I was eight, my father would speak to me of the importance of our family's mission in Gotham city. He didn't see it as a job or a way to increase his wealth Gotham was our home and like any child, we would do all in our power to make sure the city flourished in every possible way. It really was a funny statement. At that time, all I could think of was that he was talking nonsense and who could blame me? A boy of eight. I could barely understand the reason for homework let alone the fundamental aspects that built up a successful city.

When my parents passed away and the company fell onto my shoulders, only then did I fully understand the truth of my father's words. Wayne Enterprises was a part of Gotham just as much as Gotham was a part of us. It was my sole duty to take the city forward in every possible way I could. Now I may not be able to speak for everyone, and while I am aware that vigilantes and cloaked figures roam our streets; I'm glad to say that If my parents could see the way the company and the city ended up, They would sleep peacefully with an everlasting smile upon their faces. None of us in this room need to be cloaked vigilante to save the city.

A Hero can be anyone even a man doing something as simple as putting a coat around a little boy's shoulder to let him know that the world hasn't ended and good is still a possibility. Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us and on my soul, I swear that until my dream of a world where dignity, honour and justice becomes the reality we all share, I'll never stop fighting and pushing us forward."

 _"Ever."_

The party was a much more splendid affair then what she was used to, it had only been recently that her business and Online newspaper had begun to take off, and though she had recently made herself a fairly comfortable amount of money, she certainly didn't have the kind of capitol that would have usually lended to her hobnobbing with Gotham's richest and most influential. The appetizers they were handing out were to die for, and the champagne even better, she had to remind herself to show some restraint because if she got even a little bit tipsy no force on earth was going to keep her steady on the tall black pumps she was currently wearing. She would make conversation with those she met, keeping an eye out for a moment to catch the man of the night alone, though an opportunity didn't present itself before his speech began, perhaps for the best she decided, he would surely have more focus after the fact, and since other, sanctioned reporters would be around asking questions about the speech, hopefully he would be more receptive. She flipped on her recorder as Edward Brock took the stage to introduce the man of the night. She wanted to be sure that she got every word that was said on tape so that she could play it over if she needed to when referencing it in the article. If the recording came out clearly enough she might even add it to the editorial itself for the benefit of her readers, who had just as much reason to praise the Wayne Family as the upper echelon did. The speech was pretty much what she expected, he'd always shown a loyalty to the family name and brand, as well as a commitment to the betterment of Gotham, a city desperately in need of a little betterment, and to his credit and that of the police force, and a certain masked vigilante things had recently turned around in recent months. She would turn the recording off when Bruce left the podium, moving over to the drink table in an effort to get to him before anyone else had a chance to. She had a fair number to contend with at people were trying to shake his hand or congratulate him as he made his way to the drink bar. Eliza was all about biding her time though, waiting for him to make his way through the crowd so she could ambush him with questions in his next quiet moment, in hopes that he might feel generous enough to allow her a short, impromptu interview. As he finally neared the bar she would try to catch his eye, and if she did, she would offer him a large friendly smile. "That was quite a speech Mr. Wayne. I'm sure your parents would be very proud.."

Running his mind over the thought, Bruce displayed a smile as he turned his sights to her. Knowing reporters, they'd do anything to find a scoop regardless of its positivity or negativity regarding the victim being interviewed. If this woman was of that type then it'd immediately be displayed in her next response whereas if she truly was a genuine woman and not another rich swank getting paid six figures to just interview a billionaire for twenty seconds.

Moving to the bar he would reach for an empty glass and stood as one of the cup holder's filled the glass with water. "I'm sure they would." he said, taking a small sip of water.

"I must ask you though, did you really ask because you cared or because you're being paid in the millions for every hour you're here? Hmm?"

His smile hid his thoughts, that was the first thought she had as she met Bruce Wayne's gaze, his poker face was so good that she couldn't tell what he was thinking, but one thing was certain, he thought more than his expression and his eyes let on. She met his gaze with interest and curiosity, it was a surprisingly genuine peek at the man himself she figured, that he even cared if she cared or was simply in it for the money. She grinned and shrugged one of her shoulders. "I live comfortably Mr. Wayne, but not that comfortably. If we're doing full disclosure here, I'm not technically on the guest list either. " Her voice as she spoke was accented, distinctly Canadian, and clearly from the maritimes. Is she was ashamed of having sneaked in, it didn't show. She certainly looked like she belonged, so no one had questioned her being there thus far. She offered him her most charming smile, if not slightly conspiratorial, in hopes that he wasn't going to simply have her tossed out for gate crashing. "I do care though. This is my home these days, just as it is yours. Gotham has come a long way, and many would argue you had a crucial part in that." Bigger then she could possibly imagine. "I was hoping you might have a couple of minutes to spare for a small local business..." She lifted her carefully manicured hand, offering it to shake. " I'm Eliza Crosse, with the Gotham Press." Her online news service was fairly well known in the last couple of years so perhaps he would be familiar with it.

Smiling, he took a few steps towards her, cutting off the distance between them while watching her facial expressions carefully; any slight action that suggested interest would most likely elate her heart.

"So you snuck in to do what exactly?" he asked coolly as he drank the rest of his icy water. "Better yet, you made your own personal judgement that it would be fine to tell the truth and while I'm sure you only did it as a form of conversation; the stakes were clearly not far from mind."

This event was held at such a high rank that even the police officials had been paid large sums of money to simply stand around the perimeter just to see the celebrities through. Any false members would be severely reprimanded regardless of their intentions.

He would give her a look of reassurance before placing a hand on her shoulder. "Go on then. Ask what you may." he said, taking her hand in his and shaking it gently.

Eliza's expression was careful, it didn't belay any emotion on it other than sincere friendliness and professional curiosity. It was hard not to feel intimidated or overwhelmed in his presence, as powerful a man as he was. But Eliza was handling it with ease. He was just another person, she had reminded herself many times in preparation of this, the dollar amount in his bank account didn't change that one bit. At his comment about her decision to tell the truth even though the stakes for that were fairly high, she didn't look even a little bit nervous as she smiled cheekily back at him. "I'm in the business of truth Mr. Wayne. Speaking the truth is what allows us to avoid secrets getting out on someone else's terms, don't you think?" She had no idea what secrets he held to be honest though the comment might certainly have been taken that way.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the recorder. "Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed Mr. Wayne. The readers of The Gotham Press are very interested in you. Many Gothamites claim you as a bit of a mascot or symbol of all that is great about Gotham. The Wayne name and it's generous contributions earning you a proud spot in their minds, hearts and families. Some are calling you the original son of Gotham City. What do you have to say about that?"

"Well, that truly depends on the perspective. In my experience I've come to realise that-" he would be cut off by the lights switching off systematically, plunging the room into absolute darkness. Nothing but the confusion and shouts of aristocratic wealthy folk complaining about the chances of their lavish outfits being ruined were heard around them until the sound of tear gas cans rolling on the floor was heard before shortly ripping open, releasing a stream of heavy lachrymator fog into the room. The lights would then turn on in sequential order displaying a small number of armed gunmen inside the room. While their dress style didn't give any indication of the faction they may have been following, their weapons didn't seem like your generic automatic short-burst rifle. The barrels all seemed to be covered with an advanced equipment that looked as though it could shoot a small substance such as gas out of each end. Shooting their bullets up into the ceiling the men spread themselves around each corner of the room. Two had been ordered to stand by the doors tying them shut as they guarded each exit with devotion.

One of the men, specifically wearing a red mask, made his way to the podium with his gun hanging comfortably down his side.

"Can we not act like you weren't expecting this? The one night in many years that the richest, wealthiest and most powerful in the whole world are gathered in the one room. I'd have been a fool to miss out on this opportunity." he said, taking the microphone from its stand.

"Now for those of you wondering, our reason for being here today, believe it or not isn't to harm any of you, no no, that's for later on, you see, with Gotham's criminal syndicates disappearing into the unknown, I have decided to step into the mix and bring in something that this city has never seen before..."

"The gates of hell!" he laughed.

"In short, I think it'd be fair for me to introduce myself before continuing, yes?"

He would raise his hand and point it to the left.

"If you'll look to my left, I'm sure you'll see a woman that is widely known through Gotham and the rest of the world... Mrs Lena Xung. Founder of Xung Industries; the company that you all know manufactures weapons for the Chinese military. The very same weapons that were used to kill our fellow American citizens in captivity."

Lena's mouth was bidden together by a cloth, preventing her from speaking as she was held back by three men.

 **"Judgement."** The man said, before nodding to his men.

Within the blink of an eye, Lena's head became impaled with a curved sword. Her brain looking almost intact as it was sliced through her cortex.

Cries of horror and terror were heard as the guests watched in shock.

"Now now, come on! She killed our own people! You should all be cheering this on."

He then rose his right hand, gesturing for everyone to follow his gaze as he turned to the right. "On my right, we have the lovely Andrew Hedly; founder of the Resprey Medical School.

But hold on... You're more famous for something else aren't you?" the man said, tilting his head at Andrew who, like Lena, was bidden and held back by three men.

"Alright boys, Pull out the cloth so he can talk."

They did as they were instructed and removed the cloth causing Andrew to grasp for air.

"Go on Andy... Tell them what you've done."

Swords placed directly by the man's neck, Andrew's fear was clearly seen.

"A-A few weeks ago I discovered..." he paused, clearly battling within himself to release the truth.

"Hmm? discovered what?"

 _"The cure for cancer."_

The man laughed. "Hold on everyone, that's not the end of it." He said, holding up a finger of restraint. "Tell them why you didn't share the cure to the rest of the world." Letting the shame flow through him, Andrew looked around the room. "I wanted to keep the cure for myself and sell it off to billionaires for a ridiculous price while keeping it clear from public domain to maximise my wealth."

"Well there you have it."

"Little Andrew Hedly here decided to keep the cure to cancer for himself only to make more money so that he would be able to take Mrs Hedly around the world in a private jet. I think the truth speaks for itself."

He would nod once more, this time to the men on the right.

 **"Judgement."**

With swift strikes, Andrew's body was cut in five different places, horrifically dismembering the man.

"Oops, I just realised I forgot to give you all my name! As you can tell, I'm clearly the leader of this group but I would like it if you all referred to me as 'The Father'. Yes yes, I know, how do you think the women feel when they shout my name out during sex? It's always a pleasure."

His eyes would scan the room until it landed upon Eliza and Bruce.


	2. Bruce Wayne

Eliza felt sick to her stomach at the sight of the blood, or maybe it was the effects of the gas, either way she gagged a couple of times, but like a trooper, stood right where she was, catching every insane moment on camera until the man known only as the Father's eyes fell on her and Mr. Wayne. It was too late to pretend she hadn't been recording, so playing on her basic knowledge of psychology; she was going to go for broke. Either she was fucked, because he didn't want to be filmed, or he would see it as a benefit to his cause. Since he had a cause, quite clearly, her only option in her mind, was to play to that need. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. "Is it your intention to cut through all of Gotham's corruption then? What is your end goal?" She was shaking with fear on the inside, but on the outside all that could be seen was a calm and cool exterior, to show fear was to show weakness, and she didn't want to give the men with the big guns any reason to think her weak.

The man simply tilted his head at the duo when Eliza spoke with a bold defiance. "My end goal? Hmm, I'm sure I made it clear through my actions? Well, In short, It's as I said; I am going to bring Gotham to its knees in the most unexpected, glorious and absolutely mind-shattering way." he said, staring directly at the woman.

Turning his sights to Bruce, he'd slowly burst out into a bout of laughter.

"Honestly, I feel a little bad that I didn't notice you sooner Mr Wayne. This whole instance must seem like a massive middle finger to the legacy of your parents and everything they stood for but simply put; it _is_ a massive middle finger to good old Thomas and Martha Wayne. You know, I've been looking over the hit and for some reason, your name wasn't on our list of targets. Then again, I suppose you haven't done anything that directly affected and changed the lives of millions of innocent citizens at the leisure of your own gain. However...while that's true, don't go kidding yourself that you're as innocent as a saint. With all your billions of dollars, how much of that is truly spent on helping the people of Gotham as opposed to buying your whores a new dress?"

Looking over the crouched heads of the wealthy officials, Bruce caught sight of Alfred in the near distance giving him a look of delay. He would pass the butler a quick nod before turning back to the masked gunman above the stage. "How long do you think it will take for the SWAT to break in here? I've calculated the distance you'd need to travel and quite frankly, If you want to have any hope of escaping the onslaught of law enforcement that will come bursting through those doors, you'd need to leave right now."

Despite being in the literal hot seat, Bruce remained completely unshaken, that was what most interested Eliza. Had he been trained by military maybe? she would have to go back over her notes at a later time because he certainly wasn't reacting like most would. He seemed almost unaffected, even going as far as to mention to the man the ways in which he believed their plan to be flawed. While others trembled and sobbed in horror, he seemed almost too comfortable with the chaos.

The Father merely laughed once more. "I can't be the only one hearing this? Bruce Wayne, A man who snuggles up to a billion dollar pillow every night within his mansion that is built with gates that cost more than any of us will ever earn - telling a man with a gun how to do his job." The laughter would die as he blinked looking directly at Bruce who stood his ground displaying a posture shrouded within a stream of fearlessness.

"Fuck it. Capture him too."

Upon instruction, the men forced their way through the guests until they now surrounded Bruce and Eliza. This was perfect. In the months that Gotham had been silent, at no point had he been placed in a situation that made him feel like the threat of death was actually a possibility.

 _This was positively thrilling._

He'd turn to Eliza and offer her his hand. "How about we take this interview elsewhere? "

Being part of a hostage situation was somewhat new to her. Thinking quickly she stopped the video and hitting a button from memory, hoped she'd sent the recording to her email in case anything happened to her. Inwardly she was panicking even as Bruce offered her his arm calmly. "I w-was getting tired of the party anyway.." She stuttered out, though outwardly she took great length to remain calm. She tried to look on the bright side. If she lived through this, she was going to have one hell of a story to tell. She took Bruce's arm and allowed herself to be led away, her bleary burning eyes not even allowing her to keep track of where they were headed.

Bruce looked again to Alfred who used the commotion to disguise himself as he reached into his waistcoat pocket and activated a few buttons on his phone that would disable the room's makeshift security system. The response was an immediate burst from the sprinklers, showering the criminals and guests with crystal ice cold water. Using this to his advantage, Bruce made his way up the narrow stairway with the intention of taking both himself and Eliza to the roof tops where they'd most likely be rescued by a police helicopter or something of the sort. While it was clearly an incomplete plan, the leader of the armed men was no fool, It was clear that he had seen Bruce to be a highly significant target and with Eliza's strange idea to record the men, she'd certainly not leave the building alive. With any hope, the majority of men would come after them which would then enable Alfred to open up the doors, bringing in the horde of police.

Gripping her hand tightly as they ran up the stairs, Bruce didn't look back though he was aware that they were being pursued. When they reached the top, he would force the door open then lightly shut it as they stood behind the door.

This was where he released his grip on her hand, The cool night breeze hitting against their faces as they stood behind the small stair entrance on the roof of the corporate building.

Turning to her, Bruce passed Eliza an inflamed grin before looking down to her hands. "Have you stopped recording? I can't believe you'd miss this part of out of your report." He grinned.

The first guard burst through the door and stood for a moment inspecting the area.

Bruce gave Eliza a look that should have hopefully caused her to hush as they stared at the guard for a few more seconds. Carefully navigating his way behind the man, moving ever so slowly and silently, Bruce placed a hand around the assailant's mouth before placing a few fingers directly above the man's Adam's apple then twisting his neck, causing the body to fall to the floor.

He turned back to Eliza and gave her a look of reassurance. "He isn't dead, just unconscious."

Eliza stared open mouthed in utter disbelief she watched with utter disbelief when the blur that was Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, quickly and efficiently neutralized the assailant, like a trained goddamned professional.

No one was going to believe this shit, though she hoped the recorded audio would be enough to back up her version of the events. "Wh... who the fuck are you?" she gasped. He certainly didn't learn this crap in his fancy rich boy boarding schools or in business school. She'd been out for a puff piece before all this had started, but now... now he had her interest. For better or worse she wasn't going to forget this any time soon.

While Bruce worried about how he would go about explaining the situation to her later, a simple look to the sky gave his mind some peace.

In the near distance, flying high above the sky were four helicopters with the brand of the GCPD.

 _They were saved._

Bruce was silent as he waved to the helicopters signalling for them to land near their position, he would then turn to Eliza with a plain expression before blinking slowly at her. This version of him seemed to be much different from the man who grinned so widely merely a few moments ago. They wouldn't have to wait long before the first helicopter landed a few feet away from the duo with the pilots quickly ushering the two aboard.

"Let's go, I still owe you that interview." he said, making his way to the back of the helicopter where he made himself at home on the hard leather seat.

When they entered, the doors would shut before the craft slowly lifted into the air.

"Do you just want us to drop you down there with the rest of the guests or are there any other requests Mr Wayne?" The pilot asked.

Glancing at Eliza and then the ground below, Bruce looked back up to the man.

"Take us to the Wayne Manor."

Nodding, the pilot shifted the gear stick forward setting up the torque before pushing up the throttle, lifting up the craft in the direction of Gotham's largest manor.

Due to the loud ear-numbing sound of the helicopter rotor, Bruce saw it fit to let the journey commence in silence. After a short yet silent journey, they'd be helped off the copter onto the soft, rich grass of the path that led up to the manor.

They would be left gazing at the sheer size of the front entrance alone in contrast to the massive structure. Turning to Eliza he took a deep breath. "Are you going to just stand there or come inside?" he said, walking off in the direction of the door.

It was difficult to judge the situation, without taking out her contacts and flushing her eyes she couldn't see clearly enough to judge his expression, and his silence spoke surprising volumes about his unlikelihood to talk about what she was pretty sure she had just witnessed, granted her eyes had been fairly useless. With a brisk nod, Eliza would follow, following the blur that was Bruce Wayne, though somewhat less gracefully, the mixture of heels and sightlessness was a dangerous combination, and as they drew close her heel hit the ground in just the wrong way, and broke, and Eliza tumbled to her hands and knees. She groaned, not because she'd hurt more than her dignity, but because she wasn't getting much of a chance to keep up her cool professional demeanour at the moment. "Probably gonna need a sink, and a mirror before we get back to the interview." She said as she hoisted herself off the ground and blindly brushed the dirt off her arms and knees.

Pushing back the wooden doors he'd step inside the lavish interior before hastily unbuttoning his sleeve buttons. Now that they were inside his home, things could be taken at a much smoother pace. "I'm not sure about a sink but there's about five bathrooms on this floor." Nodding in the direction of a narrow corridor, he'd pass her a quick smirk.

"Go down that way and you'll find a bathroom equipped with the things you'll need to remove your contacts. The cabinets should also have a couple of fresh wipes if you feel like washing your face." Avoiding her gaze, he would walk up the first few steps while fumbling with his left sleeve before turning back to glance at her once more. "We just escaped a life and death situation. Forgive me for not fully trusting the cops but it'd set my mind at ease if you were to stay here for the night." he said with a smile. Vanishing up the stairs and down the left corridor, he'd make his way to his bedroom where he would shut the door tightly and in response, the room would light up and activate every device from the mounted 90-inch TV to the premium computer that sat above the ebony crafted desk. No doubt he was correct in his assumption, every major news outlet and reporting station was focused solely on the incident that had just taken place.

Throwing his charcoal black suit upon the bed, he would make his way to the computer where his fingers immediately put themselves to work, searching for every little thing in relation to the man who referred to himself as 'The Father'. The whole instance was far too organised to just be planned by a few mindless drones with automatic rifles, there had to be something much bigger in the midst of all this. Within that same moment, the room would shake at the sound of the speakers blearing out the sound of a phone ringing. Without hesitating, Bruce picked it up.

"What did you find out?"

"Well, It was rather wise of you to disappear up onto the rooftops. Most of the men attempted to chase after you but were quickly brought down when the GCPD broke through the glass doors.

Needless to say, the leader of the group seemed to have escaped. " Alfred said, the sounds of an engine roaring in the background. "I take it you've retreated into the cave?"

"Not exactly. We've got company." Bruce answered, rising up to change into his favourite comfortable black shirt and trousers.

 _"Company?"_

"Mhmm, I brought over the reporter from the party. She saw me disarm a man on the roof with far too much skill for a billionaire 'playboy' and now I feel as though she may be suspecting a little too much. It shouldn't be too much work, all I have to do is keep up the pretence by acting a little cordial then when she goes off to sleep, we can begin the research."

Alfred's laugh could be heard quite loudly over the phone.

"This should be interesting. Keep up the lights; I'll be home in a few."

It was a relief when she finally found herself the room in question, though the next several minutes of her life would be pure torture as she endeavoured to extract her contact lenses without being able to see what she was doing, from her heavily irritated eyes. When she finally did get them out it would be another fifteen minutes of flushing them before they stopped stinging. She pulled her glasses from her hand bag and put them on, finally getting a glimpse of herself and grimacing. So much for looking bloody fantastic, the sprinklers had left her hair wet and lip and tangled, and her eyes were puffy and red like she'd just recovered from a serious allergic reaction, even the skin around them were sensitive and red. Her makeup, though minimal, had run leaving her face streaked with eyeliner and mascara. With a groan she endeavoured to wash it all off wondering how such a nice evening had turned into such a hot mess. Twenty five minutes after she'd gotten into the bathroom she would let herself out, wandering back into main house and towards the entrance again, wondering where Bruce had gotten to, and kind of snooping all at once, getting a better look at things now that she could see clearly enough. She wasn't really sure if he wanted her peeking about, but she figured it was fair game. She didn't know where he was after all so she had to find him somehow, and she had been invited in...

"Looks like you've sorted things. " A voice came from behind, clearly nearing her location before a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder. You should keep your glasses on more often. They suit you perfectly." He said smiling before gesturing for her follow him into the large kitchen. If she did, he'd lead her into the finely decorated room and move to help himself to some bread. Looking to her softly, he would pass her a soft look. "I'm guessing my secret's out, Bruce Wayne can't cook. I can picture the headings now; 'Gotham's Finest, Bruce Wayne has a deficiency to cook' or better yet, 'Failure in the Wayne Kitchens.' What'd you think? Are they decent? That being said though, I did save both our lives and in that regard, I'd think it's only fair that you whip up something for both of us to eat until Alfred gets here. You can even ask me questions while you cook and I'll do my best to answer each with detail. I must say though, If those questions regard my sexual life or anything of the sort; Save yourself the bother, there's none. Work keeps me too busy for futile things such as that. "

"How's this for a headline? Bruce Wayne, Billion dollar play boy brings home reporter, asks her to make him a sandwich." Still, she moved to the fridge to look inside. "I hope you like Kraft dinner or canned soup, because I am no chef. Better yet, does Mama Maria's Pizza Palace deliver out this far?" Suzie homemaker Eliza was not. Moving onto the much more important matter of the questions she had for him, she chuckled slightly. "Believe it or not Mr Wayne, I've no interest in your sex life, active or not. I think the tabloids cover that kind of stuff just fine all on their own, I'm much more interested in finding out how you learned to escape hostage situations and disarm armed men in simple movements."

Truth as it may be, Bruce couldn't help but laugh at her statement. Times like these were the moments in which Alfred's usefulness really showed. Walking over to her with a wilful stride, he'd reach over her and release a large bottle of imported orange wine before moving to the nearest counter and pulling back a chair. Smiling weakly, he ran a hand through his straight black hair as if to indicate that he was stalling for time as he thought of a good response.

"Is it so difficult to believe that a man like myself can indulge himself in the act of self-defence? I have enough money to buy more than half of the citizens in Gotham a good house and car yet it becomes a problem when I am able to disarm a man? Besides, his back was turned. If you knew what you were doing then I'm sure you'd have done the exact same thing."

He'd fill up two glasses with orange wine then lift his, proceeding to take a fair sip.

"Drink up, it's surprisingly good and since none of us can cook, we'll just have to make due with this until Alfred can return and whip us up something for supper." He paused realising how formal his terms must have sounded. The purpose of this engagement was to make her feel at home, that couldn't be a possibility if he continued using terms like 'supper'. You know, I really need to relax. Here I am in front of a reporter from the Gotham press and all I can do is make a fool of myself." he said, slowly bringing his eyes up to hers. "Of course, who could blame me? It isn't uncommon for men to fall from their high pedestal when placed in front of an attractive woman..."

She would sip her wine when it was handed to her, savouring the delightful citrus taste in the usual wine fermented sweetness. His comment about her being a beautiful woman raised her eyebrow ever so slightly with surprise he thought so, though she certainly didn't count herself an unattractive woman, neither was she the sort of waif like model type that men like him tended to parade around on their arms. "Are you hitting on me Mr. Wayne?" She asked with a cheeky grin. She was kind of pleased to know she made him feel awkward, she'd been worried her lack of professionalism would make him less likely to talk to her, but it seemed he'd been concerned with the way he was appearing as well.

He would sip his wine slowly while keeping his eyes locked upon her honey brown beauties which fit so perfectly with the rest of her face. "And what if I was? Would that be a problem?" he asked, smiling and placing down his glass. He couldn't deny it though, she had brought up a good statement that would most definitely take a little more than the usual extensive karate fallacies to cover. Letting his mind roam free, he glanced at her once more, this time with an investigative look. Though this woman was no expert conversationalist; she had a confidence that wrapped itself within a veil of curiosity and interest that stood out above everything else. Back at the event when the affair became halted by the armed criminals, rather than falling to her knees and allowing the fear to consume her as it did the affluent groups beside them; she stood her ground and even went as far as to speak back to the masked man.

Such behaviour was exactly what it would take to become the new Oracle.

No - What was he thinking? The Bat hadn't been around for several months, all the better if it stayed dead. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what she'd think if the topic was brought up.

"I do suppose you have a point. I guess there isn't any need in lying to you anymore. I travelled around the world for fifteen years dedicating my mind to every form of martial arts known to man and didn't return until I learned over three hundred styles and forms of pure essence training. Out of that high number, I mastered a hundred and twenty seven styles and further adapted them into my own form..."

Watching her closely, he'd sit silent for a few moments before bursting out into laughter.

Intense. Bruce Wayne was an intense man

As he continued to speak explaining how he knew the defence he'd done, her honey brown eyes widened with wonder and then finally disbelief. Was he serious? That seemed... heavy extensive for a trust fund kid, shrewd business man or not, it really didn't fit the persona he seemed to present. She opened her mouth to ask why on earth he would need such intensive training, when he started to laugh she let out a sigh. Of course he was joking. Or at least she assumed so due to his laugh. "You're pulling my leg Mr. Wayne, for shame." She supposed it was simply a topic he didn't want to discuss, and one she would have to research on her own. "So what do you generally do in the evenings after Fundraising events? I mean, aside from saving crowds of people from tear gas attacks."

Taking the final sip from his wine he'd look at her once more. "Well, I suppose I do what any responsible billionaire does; focus on making my business more extensive than it already is." he would rise up from the chair with the intention of pouring himself another helping when his eyes caught sight of Alfred standing by the door, a suggestive grin planted on his ageing face.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." Alfred replied, his grin growing wider. Unsettling himself from the position, he would enter the kitchen while passing Eliza a brief nod. "I can see that Bruce was unable to prepare a meal for you while I was out. That's rather typical of the man and I do hope you manage to find a spot for it somewhere in your article."

Looking to Eliza, he would smile before turning back to Alfred. "We had settled on the title of "Billionaire Bruce Wayne brings home reporter, asks her to make him a sandwich."

How's that for a morning read at the office? "

Alfred simply shook his head. "My Dear, If at all you need a source for witnessing this atrocity, don't be afraid to add my name to the column. The world needs to know the truth about Bruce."

Grinning widely, Bruce would lift up the black remote and with the press of a button, a blast of classical music began to fill the room with life. "Ooh, do keep this on." Alfred said, bringing out a few plates from the stove. "Lacrimosa is a beauty." his happiness would be cut short when the channel was switched to a young pop station playing a Britney Spears single.

The old man was a delight. She choked back a laugh at Bruce's expense at his butler's words. "Thanks, I'll definitely call you for a quote." Eliza said cheekily as she watched him move into the kitchen with curiosity. She didn't have long to look though before the sound system was turned on and the sweet and eerie sounds of Mozart spilled into the room. It seemed it was Alfred's preferred listening, though it would seem Bruce had other tastes.

Putting down the remote, Bruce would walk up to Eliza and offer her his hand once more.

"You're going to dance with me."

Indulging him, she took his hand, though she wasn't going to pass up the chance to poke a little fun at him over his terrible taste in music. "I can see the Headlines now. Bruce Wayne, A Man of Questionable Taste. Let's hope you're a better dancer then you are a DJ" She offered him a cheeky smile and a quirked eyebrow. Taking the last sip of her wine she would set the glass side and let him whisk her into his arms

"I don't think it's fair that you keep deciding the names; Reporter dances with Bruce Wayne. Shuts up and enjoys herself." He said, grinning widely.

He would slip his arms around her waist seductively pulling her closer to him while keeping his eyes locked with hers at all times.

She chuckled at his quick response. "Tell you what, when you have a newspaper of your own, you can make all the headlines you like." Admittedly though, she kept right on dancing with him, shitty music or not. Laughing all the while as Alfred felt the need to lodge a complaint that he was being subjected both to the crappy music and their likely terrible dancing.

"Is all that really necessary? It isn't bad enough that I have to prepare dinner for two but now I must be subjected to this disaster? My dear, Bruce hasn't been able to dance since I had healthy hair. Taking this any further wouldn't be just an embarrassing sight but a violation of nature."

Cutting his eyes off Eliza, Bruce turned to Alfred passing him suggestive nod at the nearby table. Only now had he realised that underneath the expensive wooden table was a half-constructed _batarang_. Unaware as to whether or not the reporter had seen it, he would keep her clear from the room until Alfred had finished cleansing the chamber of any 'off the book devices.'

Eliza wasn't an idiot. Alfred had made it clear that he would focus solely on making dinner for the duo so awkwardly walking across the large room would have surely drawn her attention.

He would wait for the butler to walk past them before turning their bodies together so that Eliza's back would now be facing Alfred and to compensate for this, Bruce moved himself closer and gently planted a soft kiss on her lips. The fragrance of his four thousand dollar perfume spreading to her he kept up the kiss.

It certainly wasn't what she was expecting. She didn't typically make a habit of making out with men she hardly knew but Bruce certainly had a charm about him, all at once setting people at ease and commanding respect, an odd but powerful combination. Eliza's perfume may not have been worth four thousand dollars but she too smelled quite nice with a caramel and apple scent wafting up from her neck. After a moment she would pull away, her cheeks just slightly flushed. "Wow... I know you said questions about your sex life weren't on the table, but damn. Do you treat all the reporters this way, of just me?" she asked cheekily.

Smiling fairly he looked into her eyes.2 I'm pretty sure that it should be clear about now. Do you see any other reporters around?" he said, still hanging an arm around her perfect waist.

"I'll just pretend that I didn't see anything, we both need to retain our sanity." Alfred said before proceeding to set out the tables when out of the corner of his eye and outside the window, he saw something that both he and Bruce assumed would never be seen again.

"Sir, I think you might want to come and see this."

Grinning widely and leaning to plant another soft kiss on her lips, Bruce took her hand and would walk towards the window where they too now had a perfect view of the large white light in the sky... **The bat signal.**

Turning to each other, Alfred shook his head instinctively knowing what the young master would ask.

Bruce gave another look of urgency, one even the heavily minded Alfred couldn't Ignore.

"I do say, isn't it time you had that late meeting with the company CEOs?"

Sighing, Bruce ran a hand through his hair before looking back at Eliza. "As hard as it is for me to leave, we were signing on a new business deal and decided to postpone it till now due to... Issues.

If I'm not back by morning then I'll find you." he would exit the kitchen and disappear up the stairs.

Smiling weakly Alfred turned to Eliza. "I suppose we'll just have to help ourselves.

It's rather late and since Master Bruce is no longer here, you can eat as much as you like."

As he sat down across from her at the large table, his mind secretly prayed that she would keep her head down and focus on her food.

Unlike the man himself, Alfred's lies could be easily seen and if this woman was as quick as he had gathered then any questions she asked would be difficult to cover.

Her eyebrows raised as he took his hurried leave. Did he honestly think she was just going to stay there? Sure it would have perhaps been safer, but she'd never been one to take the safe route.

Alfred had put out food though, and she was torn between her duty and her manners, she offered Alfred an apologetic look. "Does Bruce always chase the bat signal? Or is tonight special?" She clearly wasn't buying that his sudden absence was work related. Inwardly she was trying to figure out how long it would take for a cab to get out here to grab her to take her back to her car so she could find out what was going on. She was going to be late to the show, but she couldn't ignore it all together. Her readers would be furious with her.

 _ **She asked... breathe Alfred. Think of an excuse... something big. No- something small.. err.**_

"It was as we said; the master must attend all his meetings regardless of the timing. Today's just happens to take place quite late at night due to the circumstances that occurred earlier. You of all people should know this." he said, taking a sip of his rosy scented tea. "That being said, I won't beat around the bush. While Bruce prefers for you to stay here until things calm down with the criminal activity, I frankly won't force you to sit here and converse with a tired old man like myself. If you want to go out there and do what you reporters do then here, have this."

Reaching into his top left waistcoat pocket, he withdrew a set of keys that looked like they opened the doors to one of the luxurious cars outside the mansion. Raising a brow, he would look straight at her. "Don't go thinking this is a gift. The car is packed with an inbuilt tracking system so if you decide to go and hide it somewhere, we will find out. Thankfully though, we can both agree that you don't seem like the type." he said, placing the keys on the table then sliding it across to her.

Leaning back, Alfred couldn't help but grin. He was giving a complete stranger access to a car that she would never be able to afford even if she was to live for two lifetimes.

The story she would tell others of this day would surely be something for the media.

"The car is also bulletproof and can resist the output from most explosions and VBIEDs." he said, sipping his tea. "If you plan to follow the direction of that signal, I have no doubt that you may come across some sort of trouble. There is also a small firearm underneath the car bonnet with a safety switch that should be easily usable should you encounter any trouble. Don't take this the wrong way but I'd rather have you taking down a criminal than having the car fall into the wrong hands." He said with a smirk.

"Are there anymore questions my dear?"

She had so many questions, like why in the hell they had taken so many measures in the first place and why they would loan it out so casually. The whole thing just reeked of suspicion... She didn't have time to question it now, but if they'd thought they'd thrown her off the trail, they were mistaken. They'd done anything but.

This was beyond odd. "I'll be back asap with it. Where's it parked?" She said simply because she didn't have the time to ask the questions that were going through her head. One thing was for sure, Bruce Wayne was hiding some serious secrets, and she was determined to find out what they were. Once she set her mind on something, it was rare for her to fail, sheer will alone just simply wouldn't allow for it, a trait that had gotten her in some pretty serious trouble more than a few times.

There would be time to explore this later though, first she needed to find out what was going on downtown, and perhaps even figure out where Bruce had headed off to in such a rush the second he'd seen the bat signal hanging in the air.

"It's the car parked directly at the front exit. Trust me, you won't miss it." he said, leaning back into his chair to sip the cold ice tea. "Do take care my dear." he wouldn't stare when she would make her way out of the building as he focused solely on the sights ahead. No matter the circumstances, Bruce would have disagreed with this action in every possible instance.

Alfred knew better of it, the girl's curiosity was as high as the master's mind-set. They were both still young.

On the roof of the Gotham City Police Department building, by the large light projection, James Gordon stood watching the city from his elevated position. Gotham was alive as ever in the night yet it never ceased to surprise him how much people changed when the darkness of the night was upon them. "You took your time" He said, sensing the eerie feeling that he always received when a particular dark cloaked figure stood behind him. The voice that responded was bold and direct. There was no sign of emotion nor was there any sign of humanity; this creature something else.

"I was busy. I suppose you've heard of the criminals that arrived today?" The voice asked.

"Yes. It turns out that you were right. The city was far too quiet for good cause. All over Gotham, crimes are taking place rapidly. It's getting too much for the department to handle on their own." he would pace along the rooftop as he continued talking. "To the east, banks are being robbed, to the west, businesses are being attacked. The north and south are hell zones. Just who are these people?"

The figure stood in silence watching the city. "I can't do all of this on my own. Where would you say that the stakes are at the highest?" he asked.

Gordon thought for a moment before bringing out his phone to look through the device and see the list of places engaged in current battles.

 _"Oh... You're going to want to see this."_ he said, passing the figure, the device.


	3. The Batman

Eliza had no doubt in her mind that Alfred and Bruce both would have preferred it if she'd decided to stay behind and have a quiet and safe dinner with the Butler, but she couldn't bring herself to care, this was her calling and nothing short of literally physically restraining her would have kept her in the mansion. Calling out a polite apology to Alfred as she fled the mansion she would head out the front exit at a sprint and towards the waiting car. She looked over the car with momentary wonder, had she more time she surely would have spent more time appreciating the fact that she was about to drive a car worth more than she likely made in a year. She didn't have time for that now though, she got into the driver seat, buckled herself in and then slid the keys into the ignition. She appreciated the purr of the engine for only a moment before she tore out of the driveway and back toward Gotham proper, turning on the radio to try and determine where the fun was happening as she got herself onto the highway. What she quickly realized was that Gotham was in chaos. Banks were being robbed, the streets had erupted in violence, after such a quiet period, everything had gone to hell all at once. She supposed she shouldn't have expected anything better from Gotham, she should have been more questioning of the uncharacteristic peace...

She was heading towards the center of town when the news reported rushed out something about Arkham being broken out of. With a curse she pulled a dangerous U-turn and started towards Arkham. That was where the real story would be. Well known for housing the most dangerous and insane of criminals, this was a complete disaster... Not a surprising one though, for a few years it had seemed like the Asylum was almost too easy to break out of for how often it happened. She could only hope the Bat and his team were getting a handle on things because the last thing Gotham needed was the Joker or someone else like him back on the streets.

Shifting the gear into the first drive while smoothly setting the cruise control, Bruce pulled down an overhead panel that displayed information on Arkham Asylum. It was then that a strange thought occurred. Everything so far had been directed towards him in some way. Granted, it was understandable that the men would be doing all within their power to bring out Gotham city's night time protector but what exactly was the purpose? Every citizen in Gotham knew that whenever Arkham had one of its routine breakouts, the criminals were never there during the time of the report. Why would they stay behind to wait for the Bat to make his way there?

 _Unless of course, they wanted to divert his attention?_

Pushing down the breaks, The bat mobile came to a harsh drift on the road before halting at a stationary position. Reaching to the dashboard, he would activate a button that immediately brought up all the latest news. None of the incidents seem to make sense. It stated that fires had started and banks were being robbed but looking outside, Bruce could see none. The night was quiet as ever. This would bring up the suggestion that either Gordon was fooled or had been part of an elaborate plan to trick the Bat into thinking the city was in chaos.

Sitting in deep thought, Bruce let his mind roam through all the possible ideas of why a fake dilemma could have been created. If Arkham city was in a big a chaos as the news were portraying it to be, there would be only one sane person in the entire Gotham city that would set foot in there... the Bat. Even the police wouldn't be stupid enough to run into a building full of Gotham's deadliest.

What was the purpose of all this?

Bruce was about to pull the gear stick back, engaging the car into a reverse state when he caught sight of the family car Alfred had designed a couple years back. The direction the vehicle was heading was the same road that led directly to Arkham Asylum.

"Yep, I assumed you would have seen it by now." Alfred said through the vehicle radio.

"What's going on Alfred?" Bruce asked, pushing the car forward slowly as he tailed the vehicle Eliza would be in.

"Your reporter friend caught on to the disappearance and wanted to go investigate the situation on her own. I gave her the car for protection of course."

Bruce didn't respond and would amp up the speed of the batmobile, narrowly passing every other obstacle on the road until he surpassed Eliza.

At the speed she was going she hadn't expected anyone to catch up to her nor did she expect anyone would want to at least until she saw the car gaining on her in the distance. Her eyes widened with surprise as she recognized it. The Batman was heading in the same direction as her apparently. She would slow slightly and pull closer to the shoulder, expecting him to pass as he did, though she had assumed he was heading to Arkham.

To her surprise, he pulled up ahead of her then turned, blocking the road entirely, making Eliza slam on the breaks. "Eh, what the fuck!" She growled to herself, annoyed that he'd stopped her. She rolled down the window, meeting his intimidating stare with a careful neutral look of her own. He was just a man behind a mask, she wasn't going to let him intimidate her.

"Arkham's having a break out, and you're parked here, what, directing traffic?" She asked curiously.

The caped crusader stood vigilant as he studied her from his high position. Eliza was a reporter but unlike Alfred, Bruce couldn't comprehend the idea of someone as meek and little as her travelling to a danger zone like Arkham simply to capture a good story for the evening paper. There was absolutely nothing to gain from it. What would have happened if he wasn't here to stop her from advancing? She'd have walked straight into a death trap and lost her life for something that would hardly give her a full page coverage on the paper she so loved.

"The road ahead is dangerous. There's been a mix-up, all the news reports we have been hearing are false and have been planted solely to cause chaos and have me drawn out. Had you proceeded any further, you would have been walking into a trap that would have put your life at risk." he said in a voice that clearly was different from that of Bruce Wayne's.

"If you really want to help, turn your car around and go back to wherever you came from. Every road is blocked up and soon if any other car is seen out on the street, they will be held up for suspicion."

Despite her help, Eliza was a load of trouble and no manner of attractiveness could make up for it. What was wrong with just sitting still for once? One would have thought that nearly dying at the hands of a gunman would have forced her to reconsider her career.

"I've disabled your car's central engine. Don't take it personally but you don't look like a trustworthy reporter. If I didn't know better, I'd have suspected that you were told to stay home but resisted and made your way out here."

Never had she met a man she wanted to punch in the throat quite so much as The bat, who came of as bull headed, arrogant, sexist and ignorant all at once, something that surprised her coming from the supposed crusader for justice.

Everyone had a job to do out here, even her, and suggesting that she should be waiting at home was as laughable as it was insulting.

"I appreciate the 'eads up, but you can really take a feckin' leap off a tall building asshole. You expect me to stay at 'ome when the city is burnin'? I'm an investigative journalist, risk is part of the job, and a really don't appreciate the insinuation that I don't know how to keep myself out of damned trouble. I've been reporting in this town for a few years now, and 'ave thus far walked out of it unscathed. I thought it was your job to keep scum off the streets, not stop 'onest folk from doing their jobs. Re-enable the car or give me a ride where you're goin' but if you're thinkin' you'll drop me off somewhere and I'll stay put, you're a fekkin' moron. Not. Gonna. 'Appen" In her indignation her Newfoundlander accent was coming through thick. That ancestral Irish temper flaring up, not even the bat could intimidate her off the streets, she could be as bull headed as he was.

Bruce couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her immediate accent shift that sounded similar to something from a classic children's cartoon. It was getting to the point that the idea of this woman being truly insane began to rise up in his mind. Criminals, warlords and murderers of all kind were unable to look the Bat in the eyes due to his terrifying appearance yet this reporter merely relaxed and spoke to him as though he were a milk man from Kansas.

He would walk away from the car and gracefully walk off in the direction of the batmobile. "Stop wasting time and get in."

His demand made her growl with anger, she had half a mind to take her key to the side of his shiny precious batmobile in spite of his coarse unreasonable attitude. Grabbing her bags she would abandon the Wayne car as she stormed towards the batmobile. The story would be near him, that was for sure, but if she thought he was just going to take her back out of the front lines, she wasn't going to get in of her own volition.

Turning to her once more, Bruce looked down upon her as though she were beneath him. "You won't stop, will you? Let me show you something." he would reach into the car and bring out a few hard copies of the mutilated bodies and destruction that the new criminals had caused in their brief time in Gotham. He took a few steps towards her and stood by her side so that she would be able to see the photos clearly. Angela Smith; a reporter from the daily planet. Decapitated when she travelled to Arkham one night to capture the truth of the asylum." he moved to the next photo. "James Doyle, shot and killed when travelling to the scene of a crime ." the next. "Mary Andrews, captured and taken into slavery when investigating a high profile drug scene." he would switch to the next then gather the photos and place to in her hand.

"All these people Eliza, were just like you. They made their way to the very centre of a crime or vital scene by themselves to investigate the matter and ended up in a worse state than man could imagine. You were driving at a fast speed in the direction of Arkham Asylum. A place that only I have been able to enter and exit at will and even then, I'd be lying if I said I was unscathed. " he faced her fully and glared at her. "What is it about your job that makes you think that risking your life like that would benefit anyone? Imagine for one second If I had decided to turn around and head south, which I must remind you was my plan before I caught sight of you.

What would have happened then? You'd ask the worst murders and criminals that Gotham has ever known for an interview? Do you really think that the high black tied individuals running the gotham press would care if you were turned into a vegetable? Do you think your "readers" would care about your content when you're lying in a bed unable to speak as you wait for your dinner to arrive through a tube.

There are career choices that don't require you to risk your life, consider them."

His efforts earned him a look which suggested she thought he was dumber than a sack of shit. If she'd been intimidated by the bat before, she certainly wasn't now with all the ignorance pouring out of his mouth.

"What in 'ell is your problem buddy? You've made so many assumptions about me and the press in general that it leads me to believe you don't know shit about my job. I can't believe that you don't 'ave better things to do then stand 'ere and interfere with my job, but since you clearly don't, let's 'ave a lesson shall we?"

"Chris Terrel, investigative journalist - 'elped take down 'uman trafficking rings in Denmark, Belgium, and the Dominican Republic by infiltrating the very same gangs that were causing the trouble without back up. Tim Lopez, investigative Journalist Gave 'is life to expose large scale drug trafficking in Brazil. Antonio Salas -Investigative fuckin' Journalist Infiltrated and helped subdue a well known Jihadist Terrorist cell... You gettin' the picture yet b'y? I do this job 'appily, and I lay down my life for it if need be. If that's the price of the truth then so be it. Isn't any different than anything any other journalist has ever done. Moreover, I bet I'm not the only one 'eaded towards Arkham either."

She took a deep breath, she was shaking she was so angry. She hated it when people trivialized her work as insane, especially since some of the greatest points in history could be traced back to the brave people who were willing to risk their lives to make the people aware.

She would continue. "But wait, the insulting lack of understanding doesn't stop there. I didn't steal the car, it was lent to me when I suggested to call for a cab, something I'm gonna do right now if you don't get off my arse. What makes yah think I'm fool enough to go into Arkham during a breakout anyway? Just cause I'm speedin' towards it don't mean I'm planning on pullin' right up to front gate like a bloody idiot. Finally for someone who apparently knows the Gotham Press well enough to know my name, you don't know shit about how it's run. I don't have any black tie bosses, you're talking to the top of the chain right now, an if I die, then I am a martyr to the truth as many many other journalists before me 'ave been. A risk I am very well aware of, thank you. Now are you gonna piss off an' let me do my job, so that you can do yours, or are you interested wasting both our time further?"

Bruce stared at the woman in utter disdain. She was an idiot, there wasn't a form of expression that could be used to express it any further. "Eliza, you are well and truly an idiot." He said calmly. "I have the permission from the police to prevent people accessing locations and even with that aside, I won't be willing to let a person walk to their death. The sooner you get into the vehicle, the better." He widened his eyes as he looked down upon her. Why was it that the streets were now cleared? just moments ago, the road was filled with cars yet now the place had been isolated down to just the duo?

It was _too_ silent.

"I knew it."

Lifting both of his hands, Bruce forced Eliza to the ground in a rush of adrenaline before taking three bullets to the shoulder. Releasing a grunt of pain, he held up his cape in an attempt to shroud her from the burst of machine gun fire that began to pour from behind.

There was certainly a difference in these men than that of the previous Gotham criminals. They didn't play around.

"Agh. Get inside the car." he muttered, clearly trying his best to maintain a level of tranquil.

Pressing a button on his belt, the doors of the batmobile would open providing some decent amount of cover for Eliza to use.

Bruce would then drop a heavy smoke bomb before vanishing from sight. His injuries were heavy but the best thing to do was to quickly analyse the enemy before retreating. This whole thing had been a set up.

Eliza kept silent. Funny how his misguided attempt to stop her led to the shootout being brought right to them. His even being there put her in far more danger than she ever would have been in, reporting Arkham's breakout from the relative safety from a surrounding building as she'd been planning on doing, something she would no doubt mention to the fool behind the mask when they got themselves out of the situation alive. The fact of the matter was, she wouldn't have been anywhere near the line of fire had he not involved himself with her.

She was not the weak, moronic, gentle flower he thought her to be, and she would prove it in her actions, as she quickly ducked out of the line of fire, and with a cool head, even managed to call the police line on her phone while the chaos ensued, alerting them to where they were as the creep that had messed up Bruce Wayne's party made his appearance with his gunmen.

Counting ten - no twenty men, all armed with heavy rifles and swords, Bruce was able to identify them as the same criminals who attacked the event previously that day. These men couldn't just be thugs, there had to be an element of a hierarchical order behind the curtains for their timing to be this precise.

Bruce would edge his way forward before being forced back by a bullet to the chest. How had they been able to see him through the smoke?

"Batman! What a pleasure it is to finally meet you. The trip to Gotham took some time but I was certain that me and the boys would come across you at some point. Don't be alarmed though, we aren't here to judge; our costumes were taken from the Halloween store as well." A voice said, laughing. "They call me the father by the way. I'm sure you could easily insert a sex pun in there but I'm not exactly the joker." the man would finally appear within Bruce's sights wearing a set of goggles. "So like, I've studied your work for bloody years mate. Don't be surprised that you get easily taken down by me and the boys. No offence; your tactics are a little... predictable."

"Smoke bomb this, smoke bomb that. Fuck me, you use smoke so much that even I wouldn't recommend you the nicotine anonymous club I go to." he laughed.

"I'm sure you've already noticed that the bullets we shot you with are all poisonous." he added, moving closer before crouching down to look into the eyes of the batman who was holding his chest, clearly experiencing some amount of pain.

"See the poison that the bullets were coated with right? They aren't your everyday Joker poison or any of that infant shit. This is pure home-made English speciality." he would reach into his pocket and drop a white card on the floor.

"That right there is the address of a small high class store that I have set up to specifically sell the things you'll need to cure you. Of course by now you will understand the reason for this ordeal." he paused.

"You show up not dressed as the bat in front of everyone, ask for the poison and we'll immediately know it's you - boom, the biggest mystery of Gotham is solved in an instant." the man said, grinning heavily.

"I must say though" turning back to the bat's location, he would see that the crusader had vanished off within their sights.

Laughing, the man turned to his men. "Alright boys, let's get packed up for the night. We've still got a few more banks to reach before the day is up."

Eliza watched the scene with careful perception, she was not the weak, moronic, gentle flower he thought her to be, and she would prove it in her actions, as she quickly ducked out of the line of fire, and with a cool head, even managed to call the police line on her phone while the chaos ensued, alerting them to where they were as the creep that had messed up Bruce Wayne's party made his appearance with his gunmen. Apparently putting Batman into a corner in what had to be the most ill conceived plan she'd ever heard of.

Considering the poison was already rendering the man in the mask unconscious, she already knew that whoever went to get him his cure wouldn't be him. Someone else would have to go, thus making it impossible to find out who the man under the mask was. On top of that, he'd handily given them the address, so they could simply raid the building if need be, her mind was already reeling with ideas as she reluctantly got into the batmobile, left with no other choices thanks to his short-sighted decision to disable the engine of vehicle she'd been driving.

She stayed low, videotaping the event on her cell phone until the men ran off and the Bat stumbled back to the car to pass out. She watched with amazement as the car began to drive itself. "Jesus fuck this has been the longest day of my life." She said to herself with a sigh. Her eyes shifting over to the unconscious bat. It would have been so easy to lift that mask and find out what insufferable asshat lay underneath it. She would have cared more too if she hadn't been so worried about him dying. She couldn't tear him a new one if he was dead. Putting herself into action she would look around the dash panel trying to figure out how to interact with the car.

"You'd better not die. I swear to god you're the most inconvenient man I have ever interacted with." She growled as she sped in a car towards god knows where. One thing was for sure, his choice to interfere with her ability to report was going to affect her. Her subscription rates would drop, the people would remain uninformed. Her reputation as someone able to get the most daring stories was on the line. If this was the way he interacted with the people who could actually help him, it left something to be desired.

The car rushed forward pumping up the speed at every possible moment while retaining a form of fluency throughout the rush. It would drive them far out towards the outskirts of Gotham city until they reached a point where the road stopped and all that remained ahead was the large waters that led out into the open sea. It didn't seem to slow down, in fact, if she was paying attention she'd be able to see that the speed was increasing far too much for something that seemed to be heading in the direction of doom. It was then that the middle of the water literally parted and opened up a small passage that led underground in the far distance.

"Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT!" She screamed as the car flew off the road, and then just like that the water opened up before her eyes and they were flying into a cave, obviously the man's hide away. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to calm her furiously beating heart as the car continued.

Inside the batmobile, The seats would tighten up, making Eliza more secured before the vehicle itself leaped from the path before roughly landing on the small platform.

It would then amp up the speed once more, pushing itself down the ramp until coming down onto a long linear path underground that led up to a small gate. When they reached the gate, it would quickly retract and open up, allowing the car to move forward deeper into the structure before coming to a halt on a small platform. _They had reached the batcave._

The roof of the car opened as if on instruction to reveal Alfred by the many computer screens, looking through the maps. With his back turned, he was completely unaware of the situation below.

"It's a good thing you came back, I was looking through the reports again and I'm starting to believe that some of these stories may just be a ploy set up to draw you out. Your thoughts?" he asked, looking straight forward at the screen.

She stood on slightly shaken legs as she tried to compose herself, as which point she noticed the man standing by the computer screens, who'd obviously not noticed her yet. "No shit sherlock.." she started before trailing off as she recognized the man. "...Alfred?..."

It clicked in seconds, and with a sharp gasp her eyes narrowed as they looked over at the unconscious man. "Oh, this is just fuckin' perfect isn't it. Your hypocritical ass of a boss got himself shot. With Poison bullets. I've got the address for the cure but it's a set up. I sure as shit hope Bruce has Nightwing or some shit on speed dial. "

Alfred quickly rose up from the chair, running to the edge of the balcony before leaning over to stare at the sight with his mouth wide open.

Not only was Bruce looking as though he were in a sorry state but the reporter was also in the batcave?

 _Bloody fucking hell._


End file.
